A/N: Ooohhh yeeeeaaahhh~, it looks like I'm back at it again with this.

Now before we start, a reply to the comments;

Combine 117: Ah yes, thanks for the critique and feedback, my guy. It's greatly appreciated. Oh, before anything else, super congratulations on the success of RWBY's MOD. More than 200 follows and more than 100 favorites? Um, hell to the yes, dude. Though those numbers are still far-far-far-far from my reach, I'm so glad that you're making your way up there. Keep up the good work man and I wish you blessings in your journey to stardom~!

Zerg97: My dude, you have no idea how hard I laughed when I first read your comment. I already have a general form for my MC and the sudden thought of him wearing Cinder's clothing had me weak in the knees... like BRUH, ha-ha. But that aside, thank you for taking interest in my work and I hope I'll be able to entertain you for as long as I am able.

A disclaimer: I owe nothing of RWBY and I never will, cuz let's be honest here that's just never gonna happen anytime ever, for it belongs to Rooster Teeth. Only the OC's and the canonical changes from the show are the only things that are connected to me. Nothing more, nothing less.

Also

Any and all references in this story of mine that may or may not be connected to actual people, places, things, events, and such in real life are absolutely pure coincidence. This is a work of fiction and will remain so until the end of time.

Now, onward to the story~!

Unbelievable. Understatement of the year right there folks. Truthfully though, this particular situation that Cinder Fall had wounded herself in was, by all intents and purposes, "unbelievable". So much so that despite no longer inhabiting a physical form, she felt a migraine harassing her incorporeal temples. Out of all the shots I had, out of all the people in this god's damned rock, why in all Hell did I end up with this one?

She was, of course, referring to the man whose body she was now inhabiting. The very same man who, until now, remained unconscious face down on the concrete ground. And much time had already passed since his fall and descent into the realm of sleep. The sun was already high in the sky and had long since lit up the alleyway he had fallen into. And he had yet to wake. He wasn't dead, Cinder could sense that much, but still. For her, being unconscious this long just from a fall from that height was something to be ashamed of.

A weakling. Just my luck. Cinder said to herself exasperatedly from somewhere within the man's soul. The only thing worthwhile this worthless piece of meat has on him is his Semblance and, even with that, it's mediocre at best.

The ancient spell Cinder had used was a soul severing spell from a long-forgotten era of Remnant. To be precise, it's a spell that ejects the user's soul from their body and fires it off towards the nearest living being with the same Aura Signatures as that of the user. And once the user's soul has fully resided alongside the host's, the user and the host are able to communicate via telepathically with one another and even come to share each other's thoughts and even memories.

It's called; the Latume Prayer.

In Cinder's case, due to her not wanting to both "die" and lose the Maiden Power, which had become effectively a part of her own soul, she resorted to using Latume to prolong her death while still keeping the Maiden power. From there, she planned on manipulating whoever or whatever her host would be into enacting the second phase of the spell and gain full control of the host.

But luckily, karma does indeed exist in the infinite vastness of the multiverse.

As she planned, her soul ejected from her body and it locked onto the nearest being with the same, or near-same, Aura signatures as hers. But that being turned out to be the same man that had been on the roof of the hotel, and with no control whatsoever her soul crashed into him and began its merging. Once her soul had fully settled within the man, she spent the entire night scouring through whatever memories she could access within the man's psyche. And to say the least, she was not at all content with what she had seen so far.

Stannys. Gods, even his name sounds pathetic. 25 years of age and a loner. The third child of some Lord, the black sheep more like, and cast out. Exiled.

Cinder had access to that much, however, due to their connection still being fresh and unstrengthened she still could not find out as to 'why' he was outcast from his family. On the bright side, for her, she had free reign to most everything else.

Hmph, it was likely because of this power of his. Or something close to that regard.

Blue fire, arguably the hottest and strongest variant of fire. Even she would admit to that. It's hot enough to burn through Aura within mere seconds and cremate anyone and anything a few seconds more. But that in of itself is the problem. Fire as strong as that is a lethal danger to all. Even, to the users themselves. For Cinder it's different. With her Semblance Pyrokinesis enhanced by the Maiden Power, she developed a certain immunity to fire. Thus allowing her to continue on using fire as much and as long as she wants to without fearing the consequences of being burned.

But Stannys, however, can't have that same immunity as she does. Because, as Cinder had come to realize after browsing through the man's memories, his fire was and most likely will always be too hot for his body and Aura to withstand. His permanently scarred hands are a testament to that.

If only this pathetic lard would get up already. I need his body if I'm ever going to make any progress.

It's not like the now spirit bound woman didn't try to wake the man. She tried calling out his name for hours and even at one point resorted to outright screaming it. She continued this for a few hours more but when the man showed no signs of responding she resorted to cursing up a storm. And even then, the man did not wake.

So Cinder woefully resigned in waiting instead for the man to wake on his own and browsed through the accessible memories while she waited. But now, she was starting to get really irritated again. From their shared sense, she could feel the heat of the sun bearing down on the man's body. This led her to the conclusion that it was now somewhere close to noon. And she did not like the thought of having to wait for hours on end with nothing productive to show for it. Not one bit.

All right, that's it. I'm not lugging around this damned alleyway anymore. If this sentient piece of garbage won't get up, then I'll make him. Now...

She had read some texts concerning the nature of the bond phase of the spell. But aside from the part where the user can take over the host, if the said host were to use the right magic hand sign and right incantation, there was also another part of the spell that greatly intrigued Cinder. The text was; "The spell user may be able to jolt the host with levels of pain if they are to concentrate enough." And with her frustration levels at an all-time high, she was more than ready to send pain up this-as Cinder so eloquently put it-pathetic oxygen wasting slob.

...WAKE!

"Argh!" With a short pained shriek involuntarily breaking past the man's mouth, he turned over on his back and cradled his temples with both his gloved hands. "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow...hot damn, my head...argh."

Finally! Cinder sarcastically appraised with a growl. About damn time you woke up, imbecile.

Stannys froze for a few seconds. And not long after, with his eyes widely opened, he slowly removed his hands from his head and sat up. All the while cautiously scanning his surroundings.

"Hello?" He warily called out as he carefully put his feet under him. "Is someone there?"

Regardless of no longer bearing an organ to do so, Cinder cleared her throat in preparation. She, after all, is nothing if not a perfectionist in numerous regards.

Humble greetings, Stannys of the House Barythion. With a grace long since mastered, Cinder soothingly greeted the man. And not an ounce of the disconnect she had towards the man earlier was present in her voice. I know that you are confused right now, and I know that you no doubt have many questions lined up for me. Worry not, for I will answer them all. And all will become clear in time.

Ah, the ancient art of bull-shitting or as others tend to call it, fanciful deception by articulated wordplay, is something of a second nature for Cinder Fall. One does not simply become a spy for the forces of evil if one cannot master deception and manipulation.

"Huh..." Stannys drawled out the word with a quirked brow as he clenched his gloved hands into fists. "...oookaaay...sure, whoever you are." He then proceeded to very slowly and cautiously move into a continuous 360-degree turn, all the while darting his eyes wherever.

Oh, deary me, there is no need to be so cautious. I am a friend. She gently cooed, her silky voice seemingly resonating all throughout Stannys' psyche. Now I know you may not have much reason to trust me, but I assure you I can be trus-

"Your voice." Stannys cut Cinder off, which subconsciously ticked off the woman something fierce, all the while continuing to turn. "If you're really gonna answer whatever questions I've got then answer this; Why do you sound exactly like that woman who hijacked Vale's communication transmits and recited a pseudo terrorist essay?"

Fuck. Cinder involuntarily cursed out. So this idiot has some intellect in him after all. Good to know. She was stuck in between hating her host more for catching onto her so quickly and being less unimpressed with him for the entirely same reason.

"Excuse me, what?" Completely halting from his turning, Stannys quickly fired back with an offended look. "Hey, you listen here. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I can be an intellectual if I try hard enough. So I'll thank you to not be so quick in labeling people as " imbeciles" and "idiots", miss high-and mighty-whoever you are."

Cinder was a little taken back at this. Both at the revelation of Stannys actually hearing her thoughts about him and with him actually talking smack right back at her. Either case was somewhat of a new thing for her.

You..you heard that? Cinder cautiously asked. A worrying thought was starting to take form and she did not like it at all. Earlier, when I called you an imbecile. You actually heard all of that?

"Yes, yes I did. And I'll say it again. I'd thank you to not be so snobby, Miss." He stressed the last word with narrowing eyes. "Or are you actually even a Miss? I mean, you sound like one, but I've seen enough traps to think otherwise."

Just as he thought back to those particular memories, Cinder was greeted to a front-row seat of seeing what these "traps", as Stannys had put it, actually were. And, to say the least, she was not amused with the prospect of it, let alone the physical imagery of it via his memories.

No... She carefully answered back, skeptically. Both as a means to compose herself from the sudden, and questionably lengthy, information surge about pseudo-women and to better plan out her next words. First of all, I am indeed a female. Secondly-

"Ah, so that's one question down. Only about a handful left to go." He airily cut her off with a small shrug.

-I am sorry, that I called you such names. Cinder continued evenly. Despite her irritating levels surging once again, her years' worth training helped her compose herself. The danger of risking her inert thoughts being heard by Stannys also helped in keeping herself in check. I assure you, I only came to use such foul diction because of my own self-loathing. You did not deserve such treatment from me, as such, I apologize sincerely for it.

"Uhh, yeah okay. Sure. Apology accepted, just try not to be so quick into bad-mouthing other folks just cuz you're in a bad mood, Miss." Stannys answered back after taking a few seconds of contemplating Cinder's wording. "Although, you could stand to real back on the fancy-schmancy talk. Like, seriously, a simple "I'm sorry, insert reason here, and it won't happen again. I promise" will do just fine, Miss."

Cinder couldn't afford to ponder on the matter, or to be precise she couldn't afford inner speech lest she risks the likely chance of Stannys hearing them, but she was scoffing to herself as to how easy it was to goad him.

"Did you just scoff?" Norman quickly asked.

Wasting no time, she answered back in kind. Forgive me, Norman. I could not withhold myself, Technically not a lie. She couldn't indeed hold back from admonishing him for his naive and easily fooled nature. , it's just that I have only ever seen so few who are quick to forgive mistakes. It is honestly quite charming. And foolishly idiotic, she didn't add. Cinder knew well enough what happens to those with "bleeding hearts". They perish.

"Alright, thanks...I guess?" He wasn't sure what to feel about her apology. It was well worded, he knew that much. And combined with her angelic voice, it gave off an articulate feel to it. But there was something else. A feeling. No, more like a sensation. He couldn't put it into words but he just had a feeling that there was something more to her words. Something hidden. And speaking of. "Hey, you didn't answer my question earlier. Who are you, and why do you sound like that woman from the broadcast?"

A mere coincidence. The lie came out easy for her. Almost as easy as blinking and breathing. As for my identity, I am Millisandrea. Or at the least, that was what I was called when I was still of flesh and bone. Regardless of my ascension by the divine R'hllor, I shan't forsake that name.

Stannys' eyes bulged wide as a realization dawned on him. At the same time, Cinder's incorporeal lips morphed into a satisfied grin as she viewed the thoughts of the zealous Fire worshiping religion flying about in her host's head. She had planned this during the hours when her host was still unconscious. And seeing how easily torn Stannys was becoming over her lie, she couldn't help but feel satisfied with herself.

"R'hllor? You mean that so-called "Lord of Light", that one?" The once brown-now black-haired man of twenty and five asked out, voice thick with doubt and caution. "Woman, or whatever in Remnant you are, if you think I'm going to believe that religion magic mumbo-jumbo then you're taking me for an idiot."

And yet, she could feel the doubt in his words. From her memory browsing, she found that Stannys wasn't a religious man. In fact, at the young age of seven years old, he chalked up religion to be nothing more than a flowery and intricate money-laundering scheme that brainwashes the people of the world into solely relying on a "higher power" rather than actually using their own witts and wills to absolve themselves from their problems in life.

And yet even then, there were times in his life that he felt compelled into believing in the likes of religion. Mostly because of the "miracles" and "impossibilities" that he had witnessed being pulled off against all odds. But at the end of the day, he'd always find a way to conclude those things to either be because of drastic luck or some other rational explanation.

Still, you are doubtful of your own words. Cinder answered back, calm as ever and voice warm. Your mind counsels you that my words are hollow lies filled with just as hollow meanings, but your heart, and yes even your soul, whispers for you to believe. I am a devout follower of the Lord of Light and because of my undying faith in him, he rewarded me with this boon.

"Okay, I'll admit, having a voice in my head is damn creepy to boot." Stannys started, hesitant and careful both in his thoughts and words as he glanced around the alley. "But what's to say you're not using some kind of telepathy-type Semblance to talk to me from afar? Or if not that, a sort of invisibility-type Semblance and you're just close by and whispering in my ears? Hell, maybe I'm still unconscious and this entire scenario is something that my mind conjured up." Stannys reasoned, eyes squinting and brows knitting together skeptically.

"Or maybe, I hit my head so hard when I fell down that I'm starting to hear things that aren't actually there. It could be any of those I've mentioned, and I'd sooner believe those than believing you're some kind of..." He shrugged as he searched for the right word to use. "...magic being sent by some fire god or something. That's just...that's just not possible. And what the hell did you mean exactly by "ascension" and how is this a boon for you?"

Oh? Cinder purred. You wish to deny me and my Lord's given power and label it as nothing more than a hoax, and still, you ask to know more of it? My-my, I would say you are contradicting yourself, Stannys Barythion.

Much to Cinder's amusement, Stannys didn't have anything to reply with. Instead, he gazed solemnly at his feet, a troubled look on his face as he pondered on his next choice of words. And thanks to their shared link, a link that Stannys was completely unaware of, Cinder read what he was thinking and was already formulating countermeasures on the things that he wanted to voice out.

"Okay, I really have A LOT to ask you and I need answers. Now, preferably. So for argument's sake, let's say I believe that you really are a ghost-entity-spirit-whatever that wound up talking in my head because of the Lord Of Light's power or divine grace and what have you." He started off. "What proof can you give me that proves your claims to be true? Like, how the hell can I know you're actually telling the truth and this is done by your Lord Of Light's power?"

Cinder let out an alluringly confident laugh. It was short but delivered perfectly. It was both a means to convey to her host that she did indeed have proof to back up her earlier claims AND to mask the feeling of utter smugness coursing throughout her incorporeal body. But honestly, it was more the latter that caused her quick bout of laughter.

If you wish for proof, then you shall have it. With the knowledge of her host falling more and more into her trap of lies, Cinder's voice became thick with confidence. The Lord of Light freed my soul from my body and saw fit to grant it to you, Stannys Barythion. And with our souls merging, your body has taken up some of the traits that I had when I was still of the living. Do you see that puddle over to your left?

Looking over to his left, Stannys saw a large puddle of still water and nodded. "Yeah? What of it?"

Go to it. And gaze upon your reflection. You will find the man gazing back at you to be different from the one you once knew.

A chill ran up Stannys' spine as his worry increased along with his anxiety. Cinder felt this of course, and she couldn't have been gladder. Nevertheless, the man of twenty-five years that now had irises of the color amber walked towards the puddle with short and careful steps. Once he was standing over the aforementioned puddle, he hesitated for a few seconds before shaking his head and cursing to himself at how childish he was being. It almost made Cinder laugh again. But she held back, knowing if she didn't, it would cause some cracks in the "devout and elegantly etiquette rounded Millisandrea" character she was molding.

Stannys then knelt on one knee and leaned his body forward to look at the reflection on the puddle's water.

And needless to say, he was not at all ready to see the man looking back at him in the puddle and it took Cinder a bit of effort to keep herself from laughing at him.

A/N: Dun-dun dun-dun duuuuuuuun.

Cinder has begun to dig her claws of deceit into our hero's mind, will he figure it out for the lie that it is? Or will he go with the age-old Jaune-route and be oblivious to the secret machinations going about around him which will then, in turn, lead him down a path filled with misunderstandings and conveniently well-plotted scenarios that will benefit him in the grand scheme of things?

Find out in the next chapter.